


Leave a Dream Where the Fallout Lies

by methane_sky



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:10:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methane_sky/pseuds/methane_sky
Summary: A Danger Days- Youngbloods- Top-AU thing featuring explosions and gayness and stuff. 10/10 recommend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is my first proper fic and that I am not writing this in my motherlanguage, so apologies if it sucks or sounds weird at some points.

The desert being quiet was not an unusual thing. There weren’t many people left out here after all, and most of them were keen on keeping still, so they could maintain their illusion of peace and calm- or whatever was left of it. Regardless, the silence that hung over the group of men right now had something unnatural to it, something scary even, something that sent chills down their spines despite the burning desert heat that made the air shimmer. The men glanced around nervously, searching for something or someone or waiting, maybe. The red-headed man bit at his lower lip worriedly, hard enough to draw blood, but he didn’t seem to notice. He appeared too anxious to care about a few drops of blood. And, really, those few drops were nothing compared to the gallons of the stuff that would be spilled here.

The man next to him, a tall blonde with an impression on his face that nobody actually knew what to make of, leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. The red-head’s eyes widened for a second and he pulled away to look at his brother’s face. His expression hadn’t changed, though, and he continued to speak to him quietly, all the while making gestures with his gloved hands. When he’d finished, he briefly ran his fingers through his hair, ruffled it, then shrugged and gave up his attempts to bring the tangled blonde mess on his head back in order. His brother kept quiet, as did everyone else. They all seemed to wait for someone to make a decision or come up with a plan and unfortunately, this responsibility appeared to lie with the two of them. The red-haired man shook his head, then buried his face in his hands. His words came out muffled when he spoke: “But we can’t do this…Mikey, come on, we would never even get into the city in the first place, let alone break into BL/ind’s headquarters! You know this, I know this, they all know, hell, even Pete knows and he’s a fuckin’ wavehead!” he exclaimed and vaguely pointed at the dark haired man with the stupid grin permanently inked on his face, who stood a few feet away from them.

“Hey..!” Pete spoke up in an attempt to protest, but he was being completely ignored. Not that it mattered much. He didn’t matter much, most of the time. It wasn’t like the others ever told him that, but Pete knew. He knew and he didn’t mind all that much anyways, but it still wasn’t the nicest of feelings to be insulted and then ignored when you’re trying to defend yourself. Those things tended to happen quite often, though, and it was in those moments, that he seeked the comfort of a certain equally unimportant little dude with a fedora and an undying love for old Bowie songs, who wasn’t so unimportant in Pete’s mind at all. In fact, he was taking up all of the spare room in the warehouse of Pete’s head right now, which was understandable, him having been kidnapped and all. Pete snorted in amusement at that, gaining a questioning look from the guy with the cotton-candy-hair(not that Pete knew all that much about cotton candy, but the guy’s hair reminded him of the fluffy sweet he’d seen in a magazine, back in the day, when magazines still came in colors), whose name he couldn’t recall. Something to do with rockets… He didn’t care. He didn’t care for strangers and he didn’t see why he should change that now. He didn’t care about a lot of things. He didn’t care about dying, that was for sure, and he didn’t care about being ignored. Pete turned away from Poison and Kobra- yes, he did call them by their Killjoy names, unlike all the others, who called them by their ‘real’ names, because he thought they sounded dangerous and mysterious (and because he wanted a name for himself as well, but couldn’t think of a cool one). Party Poison sounded more mysterious than ‘Gerard’ anyways… What sort of a name even was that, who in their right mind named their child Gerard? And who’d name one of their children Gerard and give the other a name as unspectacular as Michael? Like, seriously, duh. Those were the kind of important thoughts that crossed Pete’s mind while his best friend was probably held custody. But hey, no judging, everyone has their coping mechanisms, okay? If Pete had worried himself with thoughts about his dark reality, he would’ve gone insane and he knew that, so he did his best to keep his mind occupied with nonsense and tried to think of clues, that confirmed his theory that cotton-candy-dude was actually a vampire. He kinda looked like it after all…

Believe it or not, but there were actually things more important than Pete’s fascinating theories going on at the moment; the outcome of Gerard and Mikey’s discreet conversation for example. It appeared that the younger of the two had actually convinced his brother of his reckless plan- Gerard was nodding now, although reluctant at first, but still, nodding and that was something. He seemed to agree to an extent and consider the risk they were willing to take. Judging by the half-smile that played around his lips, Mikey was highly pleased with himself. With him, that was the maximum extent to which he let on what was going through his head. It was a weird form of self-defense, not letting anybody close enough to him, a probably unintentional one at that. He had never really been one for human interaction, so he never understood what everyone had been going on about all the time. Therefore, he had decided at some point, that it would be the best not to react at all when he didn’t know how to. Because to him, people (especially his older brother) were highly confusing. They said things they didn’t mean, just in order not to hurt somebody’s feelings. People even faked interest in somebody else’s mundane life. It didn’t make sense to Mikey. He thought it best not to be straightforward, but rather honest about things. No unnecessary beating around the bush, no lying, no faking, no acting. It was simpler and certainly easier than to stick to society’s mostly pointless rules. Anyways, Mikey had succeeded in convincing his brother of his plan to break into Battery City and get their friends out and he was really proud of himself, because nobody ever made Gerard change his mind. Well, almost nobody, but the one person besides Mikey who Gerard would listen to wasn’t there right now. In fact, Mikey had no clue where Frank was and he’d given a lot to know, but there was just no way of knowing without them sneaking into the city. And this is what had convinced his brother to put everyone’s lives at risk. Mikey was watching him intensely now, studying his expression and getting nothing out of it, because he just wasn’t good with these things, which didn’t quite anger him, but it sure was annoying to an extent. Minutes passed and he sighed in exasperation when he was only met with silence. “Come on, we have to move. We can’t stay here much longer, the radiation is getting too strong. It’s time we start running and you gotta make a decision right now.” he pressed. His brother’s absent gaze shifted to him and Gerard nodded again slowly. “Right…just give me a second, I…” he trailed off.

“Hang on, why am I the one to make the decisions?” he frowned in confusion. Mikey opened his mouth to answer but closed it again almost instantly, because yes, his brother had a point, why was it on him to decide for all of the seven of them? He didn’t know at first, but when he came to think about it, it seemed only logical that his brother was the one in charge. It had always been like this after all. Ever since they were kids it had been him following Gerard around and he’d never paid any mind because this was just how things were and, as a matter of fact, things were fine. Well, fine was an exaggeration at best- things had never exactly gone fine for the two of them at all, but they’d gotten by. To get by was their definition of fine and they’d both been absolutely okay with that. Until they’d found the diner, that was. After that, their lives had gotten so much better: because the diner had not been abandoned of course. Nobody would miss their chance on scavenging an almost entirely intact, albeit a bit dusty, diner that promised some really valuable resources and maybe even some water or even alcohol.

Yes, alcohol had become almost as rare as cigarettes, well the alcohol that was actually drinkable, not the disgusting liquid that Ray seemed to distill from fucking gasoline. It tasted like that anyways. Speaking of which, Ray had been the person to discover the diner in the first place and he’d been the one to take residence in the old building. So that is how the Way brothers had met the slightly creepy guy with the afro who made disgusting liquids in the backroom of his home- the shortened version of it anyways, leaving out all of the heated arguments and distrust that occurred during their first days together. So things had been pretty shiny for a while until one day something or rather someone really quite unexpected happened; that someone being a fucking midget of a man (seriously how tall was he? Like four foot?) with a shitload of tattoos. Their encounter with him had been a coincidence, really, because who would expect to find a stranger passed out on the floor of an abandoned warehouse at like two in the morning? That’s what they’d been doing- scavenging the warehouse, a true goldmine, they’d thought, because it seemed that nobody had been there for a decade at least, when a soft cry of surprise from Gerard diverted Ray and Mikey’s attention from the seemingly intact water tank they’d found in there to the slumped figure of a dark-haired man on the cracked tile floor and… “Okay everybody listen up!” the sound of Gerard’s voice cut through the thread of Mikey’s memories and his attention snapped back to his brother, as did everybody else’s. Their whole group of the not really magnificent number of seven (wow nice reference, Lily) gathered around where he and Gerard stood and they were met with expectant, yet determined looks from all of them. Mikey let his gaze brush over every one of the familiar faces that surrounded them now; closest to them were Ray and the guy with the hair from Pete’s group, Joe, Mikey remembered, who had apparently found a deep spiritual connection in the powers of their majestic fros. Next to them stood the fourth member of the group from the city, that they’d only just known personally for a few days, a bunked up, heavily tattooed man, who looked more intimidating than he actually was, because if you got to know him a little, you came to realize that in reality he was a really nice guy. And by really nice I mean actual-cinnamonroll-baking-cupcakes-in-his-spare-time-nice. In fact, Andy would’ve never hurt a fly, but sadly even a man as goodhearted as him was forced to carry a gun out in the zones. That were just the times they lived in- they couldn’t choose beforehand and they’d never be strong enough to change the system that all of them had fled from in the first place. Or that’s what they thought, at least.


	2. Chapter 2

Pete had gotten over himself and actually started a conversation with the most mysterious cotton-candy-hair dude. He had to admit, though, that asking him if he was a vampire wasn’t exactly the smoothest of ice-breakers, even though it had caused the corners of Josh’s mouth to twist into a grin, so it had served its purpose well. 

Up to the moment that Gerard had spoken up, the two of them had been engaged in conversation and actually gotten along pretty well, which was something, that just didn’t happen to Pete. He didn’t get along with people. He was awkward. Which he didn’t mind at all, but still, having an actual conversation he enjoyed was a relief.

Their conversation was interrupted by Gerard, though, who’d started explaining the basic outlines of a highly risky plan to everyone. Not that Pete listened. He knew it was important to listen and that it was rude not to pay attention, especially in a situation like this one, but even when he tried, he always zoned out after a few minutes, so he didn’t even bother in the first place.

He sometimes wondered if there was something mentally wrong with him, if maybe he had some odd sort of disorder, but he never really wanted to deal with these kinds of thoughts, so he usually discarded them real quick.   
While Pete was doing his best to fake an interested expression, the remaining five of them were giving their full attention, to which Gerard appeared to grow more confident throughout explaining the details of their, or rather Mikey’s plan.

“So basically, we’re going to sneak into Bat-City to try and break into BL/ind’s headquarters, where they’re most likely holding our friends captive.  
Before anyone says it, I know this sounds like an insane plan, but it could actually succeed, if we work together and if we’re really, really lucky.” He sighed. “The thing is I’m just now getting to the tricky bit- which is the actual task of getting them out.

So assuming we actually make it into the city, we have no way of reaching our friends. I mean we can ditch the idea of just walking in there right away- that’s never gonna work, let’s be real.”

“Wait, what? We don’t even know where in the city they are and you suggest just walking in there, guns blazing or what exactly do you have in mind?, Ray piped up rather suddenly, but he was cut off almost immediately.  
“So what IS the plan? I’m fucking tired of standing around, we gotta DO something, we can’t just leave them to rot in some fucking cell or to be tortured or whatever BL/ind even do to their prisoners…” It was the first time for Josh to speak up and everyone’s gaze shifted to the pink-haired man, who found himself in the metaphorical spotlight.

“We completely agree with you on that, Missile. But you need to calm down right now, okay?” Mikey’s tone was cool and collected, but Gerard could tell he was tired of Missile’s shit. “The worst we can do right now is something rushed- we can’t help ‘em by getting caught. We need to plan this out and trust them to hang in there for a while longer. We have to-“

“Bullshit! You wanna plan this out? How much time do you think we’ve got? I know what those ‘crows are like! They’re fuckin’ cruel and they know us there. We worked for them or did you forget about that?  
What do you think they’ll do to a traitor, huh? They won’t just kill Tyler, they’ll fucking bleed him dry and break every single bone in his body before they’ll even think of killing him!”

Nobody had known all that much about Missile Kid and Mad Gear in the first place, but none of them had ever expected Josh to be able to get this furious (he seemed like a super sweet sunshine prince most of the time after all). His voice took on a quieter tone, when he continued.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know what got into me, I just… I’m really fucking angry at BL/ind and at myself for ever letting Ty get taken and I… I don’t know, I don’t want anything to happen to him, he’s the only family I’ve ever had, and I just can’t lose him yet.” 

His gaze fell and he seemed to be extremely busy studying the dirt on his boots all of a sudden. The others were shooting him sympathetic glances- they knew what it was like to lose loved ones- everyone had lost a friend or family member to a Drac patrol or even to the desert itself.

“What do you mean ‘yet’? So you knew they were gonna come for you some day? And you still came to us, knowing you'd lead them straight to the Diner?” Joe stepped closer to the rest of them from where he’d been standing next to Ray. “Yeah…” Josh mumbled, eyes still facing downwards.  
“I didn’t think they’d be this quick, though.I'm sorry for putting all of you in harm's way. I thought we had some time left, I mean we weren’t important back when we worked for BL/ind, they didn’t even trust us with any secret information or anything, we were just messengers, it’s not like we could’ve brought them down by spilling their secrets… We thought they’d leave us alone", he chuckled bitterly "Turns out we were wrong, huh?

Joe scoffed at that. “None of that matters now. We have to do something and we can deal with the consequences later, that fine with you guys?” He earned sharp nods from everyone and beckoned for Gerard to continue explaining the plan.

“Right, so in order to get into the city we’ll have to look inconspicuous, so...disguises it is.”

“You’re kidding! That’s never going to work!” Pete laughed it off. This was friggin ridiculous, like a move copied straight from a comic book. Not that he’d ever seen one, but still.

“I’m not kidding at all. We actually have a good chance of success- all Dracs look the same, we need to take out a patrol and take their places. We can easily ghost these fuckers.”

“I guess this would work… except you need to have security codes to get granted access to the city and every BL/ind building, which we don’t. And there’s no way we’re getting them from the dracs, they’d chew off their own leg before giving the codes away- they’re fuckin’ brainwashed.” Josh threw in.

The optimistic expressions on the faces around Gerard fell and quite frankly he was clueless as to what to do about that problem. He was sure that with some more time they’d be able to think of something, but time was the one thing they didn’t have and matters were more than urgent.

He didn’t know how to help his friends, he didn’t know how to lead this stupid dysfunctional rescue squad, he always failed everyone, and more importantly, he would never get to see his best-friend-almost-lover again, if he didn’t think of something, which he just couldn’t do and that drove him fucking nuts.

This realization resulted in him yelling “FUCK THIS” from the top of his lungs, earning the most unnerved look from his brother; he seemed almost embarrassed. The others looked just as hopeless and frustrated as him, though.

“That was the only shot we had. If anyone’s got any sort of idea, say it right this instant ‘cause I’m up for literally any plan that has the slightest chance of success right now. So…anything? Anything at all?” Gerard had starting biting at his bottom lip again and the tiny wound that had barely just closed began bleeding. The familiar taste of iron in his mouth had something comforting to it, he thought. Finding the taste of blood comforting was a bit worrying maybe, but Gerard really had more important things to worry about than his own mental issues.

“I’m all for making it up as we go along, if you ask me, which of course… nobody does.” Pete spoke up into the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over them once again. Annoyed glances were fired at him. “Yeah, you know, there’s a reason nobody asks you, actually, it’s ‘cause all the ideas you come up with are complete nonsense.” Gerard, whose head was usually occupied with entirely different ideas (y’all know what I’m talking about), sighed. “So we’re back to nothing. Fucking shiny.”

Hopeless glances were exchanged. Sighs were heaved. Shoulders sagged. They were entirely helpless(also hopeless), unable to even set up a plan, let alone sneak into Battery City to free their friends. The possibility they didn’t consider, though, was the circumstance of an inevitable fight being on the verge of happening- right there and then. Because trouble, in fact, was already on the way to their unimpressive group without them knowing at all- that trouble still being held by shackles in a dusty van, but not for long anymore, for the van had almost reached its final destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't really like the dialogue in this chapter very much because I wrote it a while back and it's just kinda sucky idk. Anyways, hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading! xx


	3. Chapter 3

_The first thing he noticed was it hurt- thinking- the act of forming stringent thoughts was unusually painful. He didn’t wonder why it did though or how that was physically possible; he knew those thoughts were far too pain-inflicting ones to think._

_A sharp flash of pain followed every one of his thought constructs. It was more of a snap really than a flash, a wire snapping maybe or an electric shock. Every time he attempted threading a new web of thought, it was like there was another person in there that went to cut every single string he’d just woven in his mind, creating holes in the fabric of his thoughts._

_It wasn’t an unbearable pain yet but it was indeed a problem that he’d have to deal with sooner or later. Later that was, because first, there were things he had to do. Important things, at that. That’s what he’d been told at least._

_And he believed every word he was told, he had no reason not to, because questioning the facts he was given was an unnecessary torture to himself and believing the men in white was so much easier. He’d been conditioned not to question or worry or form his own thoughts and that was simply so much easier. It was so much better. Better than what, he didn’t quite know, but he didn’t question the fact that it was. It just was._

_The next thing he noticed was the fact that he was moving. Not from his own physical effort, but because of the fact that he appeared to be riding in some sort of vehicle. Their destination was unknown to him and he didn’t particularly need to know where they were headed._

_He occupied himself with staring at the men with the bleeding masks sitting opposite of him, finding comfort in their uniformity and calming presence. Why he needed to comfort himself he didn’t know, but he had a feeling he was doing something he shouldn’t be doing. He didn’t like that thought and he could tell by the sizzling electricity behind his skull that the other one didn’t either._

_He was also handcuffed. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was. For whatever reason somebody felt the need to shackle him, he was certain it was a defendable one and only for his own safety. He was incredibly trusting when it came to giving responsibility away._

_The movement ceased. Doors were opened. Light flooded the inside of the van. Radiation grazed his skin._

_He would have found the patterns his shoes left in the red dust when he jumped out of the van pretty, if he’d had a concept of beauty, which of course he didn’t. Having none was less distracting, easier, better. He distantly remembered having one; he remembered he’d liked the color red once, and the quiet of the forest._

_Not that he’d ever seen a forest, but he’d liked the idea of trees. They radiated calm and peace and silence, muffling the hectic sounds of the world, giving him the possibility to escape for a few hours._

_He’d once had a forest in his mind. But all the trees that used to grow in his brain had been cut down or had lost their leaves. His mind was a wasteland now, mirroring his surroundings, the sun burning the red soil and the few skeletal shapes of trees that had somehow resisted the cleansing white fire that had swiped his head clean from independent thought cast eerie shadows on the ground. He traded the memory for sizzling pain and he did it willingly, because he’d take all the pain the other one could inflict on him for just one drop of precious water for those thought-trees to grow again._

_He remembered wanting too. Not that he wanted anything but to do what he was told, but still, in some dusty corner of his brain the concept of want had persisted, stored away in some well locked closet or buried under tons and tons of unorganized paperwork. He wanted that drop of water right now. He did, and that worried him and worrying hurt._

_That’s probably why he decided it best not to want anything besides finishing his task. The most important task of his life, he’d been told. He was keen on doing well, because that would be better. He wanted to be better. He wanted the men in white to be pleased. He wanted to be better. Those were exactly the kinds of thoughts he was supposed to think and doing what you’re supposed to do was better, he thought._

_Having left the van, he turned around and caught the flash of a man’s reflection in the side mirror of the car. A wave of recognition flooded through his head, but it passed as quickly as it had come. It was only when he tilted his head to the side to study the man’s face a bit more intensely and the man mirrored his movements, that he realized he was actually looking at his very own reflection._

_Confusion was the first thing that came to his mind after a rather painful moment of realization. He didn’t dare ask himself why the man in the dusty mirror was looking at him with bloody eyes. That was the nearest mental image anyways, because the reflection’s eyes weren’t really bleeding, of course, even though that wouldn’t have been all too surprising to him after all, he’d have accepted it for a fact and wouldn’t have questioned it._

_The truth was though, that he was looking at a version of himself whose eyes were so bloodshot the irises appeared dark red. He was actually pretty sure that his eyes usually were a different color. But which color he didn’t remember._

_He tried, he tried so hard to recall the color of his own eyes but he couldn’t do it because the other one wouldn’t allow it. He hurt him for every time he tried to dig deeper into their head. There was something there, buried along with his concept of beauty and the color of his eyes, something, someone…someone the other one didn’t want him to see. Who was he hiding? What was he so scared of him knowing?_

_Questioning hurt and he saw that torturous pain reflected in an involuntary grimace on his own face._

_All of those thoughts had crossed his mind within mere seconds and therefore went completely unnoticed by the Draculoids accompanying him because he tore his gaze away from the zoned-out looking person in the mirror, whom he refused to acknowledge as himself, as quickly as he’d come to the bone-crushing conclusion that he wasn’t truly looking at himself in that distorting mirror, even though that earned him a shitload of physical ache.  
But yes, he hadn’t been looking at himself there; that was a truth he chose not to believe in. His strongest weapon against his own mind was denial and he used it with all its force. Well, denying something even though you know you’re denying it doesn’t really serve its purpose anymore, but he put that aside as he didn’t fancy the idea of the tremendous amount of pain that he’d earn himself for pressing the matter any further._

_As he attempted to clear his head, he turned to face his company; the three of them standing around him in semi-circle, hands close to the holsters of the guns strapped to their legs in anticipation of an attack by…whom? He didn’t know._

_It wasn’t like he was hostile in any way, so it couldn’t be him they were keeping an eye on. Or could it? In this state of mind, he wasn’t quite so sure what he was capable of and what his conscience would prevent him from doing- he reckoned he still had a tiny spark of a conscience left somewhere that would eventually come back to torment him once again (even though he didn’t know where to look for it because it was obviously well hidden at this moment)._

_He took notice of the fact that his head, that was actually supposed to be filled with nothingness, had taken to distracting him from what he’d initially come to do. He couldn’t tell if he liked this chaotic state of mind he was in right now better than the white emptiness he had been filled with before he’d woken up from a sleep that had felt like years._

_He was awake now and he was in control, for the most part (well, he thought he was), of fulfilling the most important task he’d ever been trusted with. He felt pride about that because it had been him and no one else who’d been entrusted with this monumental quest. And this choice of words wasn’t an exaggeration in his mind._

_The smallest of the Dracs reached into his pocket and produced a small key, which he used to un-cuff him. While doing so, he leaned in impossibly close to his ear to whisper the following: “Ty, it’s me, if you’re in there- this is important, okay, when I say run- you fucking run and you keep running until I tell you to stop, alright?” The Drac fully freed him from the handcuffs “We’re getting out of this alive, I promise.”_

_Ty._

_That was short for something, wasn’t it? He didn’t know for what, though, but it had a familiar ring to it. Ty… it was a name, obviously, but whose, he couldn’t recall. He didn’t consider the possibility that it might be his own._

_There was a more urgent thought occupying his mind; this drac seemed to be planning on…escaping? His reasons were a complete mystery to him, but that didn’t matter- he found himself in a different dilemma entirely; he was stood before a choice, a decision demanding to be made._

_Because he was best at doing what he was told to, but now that he’d been commanded two entirely different things and was faced with the possibility of a fight- he knew a fight was inevitable, he’d probably have to kill somebody either way, it was just on him to decide whom he’d kill- he was unable to pick. Not to mention that the inexplicable circumstance that this drac seemed to know him was complicating the matter infinitely._

_First of all, how does he know me??_

Stop it.

_And why is he so keen on escaping his own people?_

Stop it right now. Focus on the task.

_And, most importantly, why for fuck’s sake did he tell me to run?_

I said stop it! Obey right now!

_Why?_

STOP! NOW!

_Why is any of this happening to me? Why am I like that, feeling entirely numb except for the slashing pain? Who are you and why do you care what I think?!_

THIS ENDS NOW. 

_It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. GOD IT HURT SO MUCH HE COULDN’T THINK. THIS HAD TO STOP…BUT HE COULDN’T HE COULDN’T HE COULDN’T STOP THE OTHER ONE FROM INFLICTING THIS FUCKING PAIN ON HIM. HE WASN’T IN CONTROL.HE WAS AT WAR WITH HIS OWN HEAD AND HE WASN’T IN CONTROL ANYMORE. HE WASN’T IN CONTROL OF HIMSELF OR HIS SURROUNDINGS OR ANYTHING ANYMORE EVERYTHING WAS A MESS THIS WAS NOT WHAT HE’D PLANNED AND THERE WAS NO ESCAPE AND HE COULDN’T HE COULDN’T HE COULDN’T DO IT ANYMORE_

_And in this moment, as he found himself tangled in the mess of frayed ends of his once-thoughts, he lost control of his sight and more importantly of his limbs as well, which seemed to be moving on their own accord now, in which direction or to which destination he didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care as long as whatever was at the end of the way ended this unbearable torment that was entirely in his own head. And maybe that is the worst torture of all, the pain that you can’t distinguish the source of, that nobody can truly free you from except for yourself._

_His vision blurred or maybe there were tears in his eyes or it was reality contorting around him or his face was being smeared like oil-paint on canvas but it caused his sight to blacken around the edges. Stumbling past the car’s mirror, he caught a glimpse of his face taking on an unreadable expression, not pained, not sad, not frightened, not exactly nothing either, just faded,_ blurry _, staring at nothing, but piercing everything and everyone around him with his bloody gaze._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so long, but I just couldn't seperate this chapter into smaller parts, it wouldn't have been nice to read... I hope you liked it though and leave some feedback as i really love reading what people think of my work! xx


	4. Chapter 4

When the colorful pictures and blinding lights had faded into darkness, he found himself alone, alone except for the afterimages scorched into the blackness behind his eyes. There was not a sound to be heard apart from his own ragged and exhausted breathing as he took a moment to let it all sink in.

No one was coming to save him. He was on his own, probably already dead and gone to his friends, a hopeless cause. His muscles were still tensed up from his earlier struggles to break free from the ties that bound him, so he relaxed them and sank back into the chair. It was pointless anyway. Even if he managed to escape his restraints, where would he go? He still had no clue as to where he was, whether he was in the city or somewhere out in the zones and it wasn’t like he could see a thing anyway.

Blinking into the darkness, he tried to make out some of his surroundings as he had been too distracted by the horror slide show he’d been forced to watch before. The room was ever only lit up by a projector and was otherwise constantly pitch-black. He didn’t even know if it was night or day.

Pictures were flooding his head.

They were images of colorful corpses splattered with blood, of riots beaten down with brute force, of disorder and chaos and TV static. They were the remnants of the old world, vinyl records and tapes and ancient comics, burning in the great bonfire of the new age and above- a single bird watching the world going to waste.

Some men were burning, burning up in the flames of starvation and consumerism, but on the stage they kept singing and their guitars kept playing until they melted into the fire and their voices still filled his head and their screams still rang in his ears as in his mind he saw them being devoured and torn to shreds by countless greedy hands.

The scream that shook the thick black silence didn’t feel like his own, although he’d felt it trickle from his lips. It sounded like a strange creature’s, a wounded animal caught in the headlights. He shivered against the restraints wanting nothing more than to be back in his own crappy little apartment on the top floor of some random high-rise as a quiet sob forced its way out of his throat.

How long were they going to keep this torture up? Either way, he wouldn’t be able to be resilient much longer; he could feel it messing with his head, slowly driving him out of his mind. But other than that, it mostly made him angry. He wanted to tear something to shreds and those damn ties were gonna be the death of him if he didn’t break them soon.

They left him to rot in the darkness for a couple of hours, but they felt like days to him; days in which he was constantly plagued by those terrifying images of ruin and destruction that just wouldn’t leave him alone. The voices in his head were screaming so unbearably loud that all he wanted to do was to silence the noise, but…

A ray of light hit him when a door at the far end of the room was cracked open slightly, only enough to allow access to the familiar figure of a woman. She’d come see him repeatedly over the past days and he guessed she was the head bitch in charge. He hated her. He loathed her so much he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and just press until she stopped moving.

“Feeling good?” she asked him, her voice dripping with venom. She was grinning down at him lazily, almost seeming bored. That sick smile made her beautiful face twist into a disgusting grimace.

She brought up his head with one hand so that he was forced to look her in the face. He wouldn’t let her know just how close to breaking he actually was. He was not going to give her that triumph over him. No, he just smiled before straight up spitting her in the face.

“Fuck you.”

Normally, he would never have said that, but she was really bringing out the worst in him. He was sick, so sick of this and he just wanted out.

“Well”, she chuckled, releasing him, “we’ve decided to try something new today. Personally, I’m against this, I really didn’t want to incapacitate you, but I’m afraid you’re leaving me no other choice. All the big guys wanna see is results, you know.”

“What?! What do you mean?”, he asked, hating the panic that laced his voice. Whatever they’d come up with now, it certainly couldn’t be good. Before he got an answer, though, the door fully opened and revealed several white-cloaked people, who he presumed came to take him to the next torture level. 

Momentarily, he was free of any ties apart from the handcuffs as he was walked out of the dark room into a white hallway. The blindingly bright neon lights hurt his eyes after spending days in the dark and he was forced to watch his feed stumble clumsily across a shiny white floor.

Eventually, he was taken into another room that had the look of an operating room in a hospital; there was a large metal table in the center of it with huge white lights illuminating it. On a small table lay scattered miscellaneous operating tools, scissors and scalpels and the likes.

The sight of them made his stomach twist into a tight knot, he had an idea where this was going and needless to say he wasn’t overly excited about being operated on. Quite the opposite really, he felt his legs weaken as he stumbled closer to the table, grasping its cool surface for support, and his heart beat faster than it had in a long while.

He didn’t see who uncuffed his hands and he didn’t care because the next thing he knew someone was heaving him onto the table, fastening belts to his legs and arms, attaching electrodes to his temples. Panic was completely taking him over now, he breathed so quickly his lungs felt like they were going to give out, and he was struggling with all his force against the restraints that bound him, but it was no use and there was someone looking down at him now, but he was so panicky he couldn’t focus on their face and it probably didn’t really matter much but they had something in their hand –what was that- a scalpel, no a butcher’s knife, what were they gonna do with it?! What were they gonna do…

“D-don’t…no…please”, he managed to choke out, not caring how pathetic he sounded; he would do anything to stop them right now, anything for them not to use that thing. But they weren’t stopping, they weren’t gonna stop, oh god, they were raising their hand now…

…as they were bringing it down as if in slow motion he closed his eyes and he screamed when the blade touched his right wrist, going through his flesh, cutting, slashing, slicing, severing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been reading this, please leave some feedback if you want! I really like this chapter, damn.


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